


I Could Make Amends

by aggravain



Category: Arthurian Literature - Fandom, Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Gen, character foils to friends :-)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aggravain/pseuds/aggravain
Summary: Aggravain has a meltdown at the Joyous Gard and then bonds with a french fuck asmr (gone right) (gone friendship)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	I Could Make Amends

**Author's Note:**

> i sat down and wrote this in 2 hours last night sorry for weird prose or anything I Tried My Best In Editing.
> 
> I keep thinking about the narrative foil between Aggravain and Lancelot and how if they just got along they would be so powerful and such a supportive backbone for each other so i did this. 
> 
> no one look at me for the title the song just fits both of them well ok. please listen to ajj.

Sitting on the floor of his brother’s boyfriend’s castle in the middle of the night wasn’t the weirdest place he could be right now, Aggravain rationalized to himself. It could be his Mother's boyfriend’s floor. It could be his Brother’s floor. 

He curled in on himself, buried his face in his hands, and groaned. 

Aggravain snuck a look at the owner of the floor he found himself on. He was staring at him wasn’t he. God, he must think he's a freak like everyone else. Gawain must have told him how pathetic he was and took the first chance he had to see for himself. It wasn’t his fault his stupid brother was out on “buisness” and he was told to deliver a message to the Joyous Gard of all places. Why was the french bastard’s castle so loud anyways. Who was supposed to be able to deal with that kind of noise. Every other knight, he supposed. It was his fault for being such a fuckup in the first place. What kind of knight couldn't stand a single crowd. What kind of knight started sobbing every time he got overwh-

“Uhm, Sir Aggravain?” Said french bastard spoke up. 

Aggravain didn't even spare him a glance, he already had the expression of pity ingrained in his head from his brothers and the other wretches at court. He clutched his legs tightly and made a show of tucking his head into his knees.

“Alright. Uhm. Ok.” He heard the knight fumble with something across from the corner he claimed as his own. Something dropped and rolled. Aggravain was too anxious to care. 

“Hey-” Aggravain jumped at the sudden tap on his shoulder and was immediately too anxious not to care, “Shit, oh my god I’m so sorry I…”

They both locked eyes and Lancelot went silent. Aggravain wiped furiously at his tears and recoiled, pushing himself further into the corner.

“The fuck do you want. ‘Haha, very funny, Gawain’s shitty younger brother cried at nothing!‘ Piss off.” Aggravain spat. He almost felt bad for it when he saw the other knight flinch back so suddenly. 

“No, no I’m sorry, you just-” Lancelot fell to the floor across from him with a questioning look, “you got overwhelmed right?” 

Aggravain continued to almost feel bad for his outburst, but mostly he started to feel confused. He should be pissed, he was being pitied. 

He stared bullets into the man sitting cross legged casually before him. 

Lancelot rolled his arms awkwardly and began fiddling with the hem of his shirt waiting for a reply before his nerves overtook him and he spoke. 

“Sorry- again. I get like that too sometimes, I should have asked but there were too many people around and I didn’t think that would help.” 

Aggravain slowly stretched his legs out in front of him before crossing his arms and deliberately, focusing on the motion to distract himself from the cocktail of emotions starting to swell in his mind. None of which he was willing to give thought to. Especially not on the floor of one of the people he hated the most. 

“So what, you’re doing this for my brothers then? Gareth tell you all about how embarrassing I am?” He huffed and quickly dragged his legs back to his chest. 

“What?” Lancelot all but squeaked out. 

“He always hated me. And what about Gawain? You two are apparently oh so close, I’m sure he's bitched about me plenty. ‘Oh that Aggravain! Can’t even be in a crowd without freaking out! How pathetic, Huh!’” Aggravain couldn’t help but laugh. His skin was crawling and the pit in his stomach deepened. He felt vile. 

Through his floundering Lancelot suddenly yelped out, “I don’t!” Before wincing and fumbling quickly for something he brought over to the corner with him. He held it out shakely. “Hate you… I don’t hate you, I mean. And it’s not because of Gawain or Gareth?”

Aggravain’s mind froze. Despite the obvious lie he was compelled to stare at the cup in front of him. He was almost tempted to delve into the idea of poisons or drugs before his thoughts were cut off with an unsteady, “It’s water” from Lancelot. 

He slowly reached a hand for the cup despite his mind screaming otherwise. 

“My mom would usually talk me through these kinds of things but I uh- I’m not all that good with words? Water helps though. I think someone said when you get dehydrated when you cry? Kay used to always joke about how I would cry out all the water in my body before I reached twenty but I-“ Lancelot paused as Aggravain took a hesitant sip from the cup. “Sorry. I’m being annoying. Uhm, blanket?” 

Aggravain tried to lob another insult or scathing remark but he'd always sucked at that kind of thing. He just felt exhausted and sick. He didn’t want any more pity from the french fuck in front of him. 

“Sure.” 

Lancelot lit up and grabbed the folded blanket forgotten by his side. He pawed at the edges before standing suddenly and laying it across Aggravain’s shoulders. 

His first reaction was to get hostile. To drive him off. No one would treat him like this without some ulterior motive. He was being played and he knew it. 

“What… What are you doing?” Aggravain was almost shocked at how soft his voice came out. 

“Oh, ah, you’re drinking? I thought this would just be easier.” Lancelot furrowed his brow and shrugged as he returned to his previous spot in front of the corner, blocking Aggravain off from the vast, bright, profuse room. 

Aggravain hummed and returned his focus to the cup. If it was poison it was slow acting, maybe he would die miserably in an hour, but he started to find himself uncaring. 

He was sure Gawain could have set this whole thing up, using a convenient trip to Rome as a cover up. Hell, he considered, Gareth could have arranged something like this. It was obvious he hated him, why wouldn’t he want to get back at him by forcing him to be babied by his hero. Lancelot was obviously in on this, playing along to please whichever of his brothers was pulling the strings like the obedient dog he is.

He glanced up at the dog in front of him, worried looking as ever. 

“Why’d you bring me here anyways. I would have been fine, I’ve been freaked out alone before.” All the bite behind his words were gone and he wondered for a moment how he should be feeling about that. 

Lancelot tilted his head questioningly. Aggravain would have laughed if he wasn’t so tired.

“Why would I leave you there if you were struggling?” 

Aggravain snorted. It barely even felt like pity coming from him, just “duty.” Of course he helped, chivalry wins out. There was no secret plan to Lancelot, just misguided honor. He took another sip of water. 

Lancelot shifted anxiously on the floor, the silence evidently making him even more uncomfortable than Aggravain was.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know.” 

Aggravain wanted to roll his eyes. 

Aggravain stared at Lancelot, confused. 

“That I don’t hate you? And not for Gawain or Gareth either.” Lancelot’s hands tangled in the folds of his shirt. “You’re a good person,” he breathed in sharply, “and I like you.” 

Aggravain wanted to get mad. He was starting to get nauseous. But mostly he was just getting confused. Lancelot seemed too sickeningly earnest to make one of those kinds of jokes, even at the instruction of other people. He wasn’t one of the few who were so desperate for his brother they’d settle for something so off kilter. He didn’t even seem like he was enjoying this. 

Aggravain wanted to scream. 

“What do you mean.” Aggravain asked. 

Lancelot stopped fidgeting a second to smile at him. 

“I think you’re a good person,” he let out a nervous laugh, “I didn’t bring you in because of your family or anything like that, I just wanted to be sure you were ok like- a sign of goodwill?” 

Aggravain completely froze. 

He didn’t know how he wanted to feel. 

“Oh god, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry I started rambling and I- are you ok?” Lancelot’s smile was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual nervous frown. 

Aggravain felt himself get upset by that. 

He also felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Fuck- shit I mean, sorry. Yeah, fuck. I think I'm ok.” He rubbed the corner of the blanket over his face haphazardly and let out a shaky laugh that was mostly cough. “Thank you.” He breathed out. He could feel a part of himself gag at the words but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Lancelot gave him another small smile and reached out a hand. Aggravain stared at it confused before jolting up with a small “oh! Shit,” and passed him the now empty cup. 

Lancelot laughed and stood to place the cup on a nearby dresser before collapsing onto the floor next to Aggravain. He huffed at the laugh and barely thought about how he should be scared of how little venom it held.

“Sorry about all this, again but really I’m not doing this for any of your brothers? I don’t even know what that would entail. I’m pretty sure Gawain would just try and get me into some elaborate ruse involving blood and stripping to embarrass you instead, and all of Gareth’s rants about you are mostly talking about how much you care about Mordred. Which is cool! I mean- I think that’s really wonderful of you to be there for him.” Lancelot rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he rambled on. 

Aggravain didn’t really know what he was feeling and especially didn’t know how to respond to anything like that. He leaned his head against the wall with a hum. He was so exhausted. 

They sat in silence for a moment before Aggravain yawned and clutched the blanket tighter. 

Lancelot moved slightly closer before pausing and shooting a questioning look to Aggravain. 

“Are you alright with touch right now? I- sometimes when i get upset like that even a handshake is too much and I don’t want to freak you out more or anything like t-” 

Aggravain cut Lancelot off by sliding over to fill the space between them with a yawn, leaning his head on the other’s shoulder. He was shocked at how uncomfortable it was but the exaltation of being so close to another human being and the warmth that radiated off of him won out. 

“Mention this to anyone and I’ll kill you myself.” It sounded almost like a joke. 

Aggravain decided he was ok with that. 

Lancelot laughed softly. Aggravain was enamored by the movement. He closed his eyes and adjusted himself under his friend’s arm.

  


* * *

  


Aggravain woke to sunlight in his eyes. He grumbled and turned to bury his head into the soft pillows around him. He started to drift back to sleep before shooting up suddenly, the events of yesterday flooding back to him along with an awful headache. 

He looked around the room disoriented. He must have fallen asleep on the floor and Lancelot, ever the gentleman, probably carried him to his own bed. Aggravain scoffed to himself. There was no sign of him anywhere, and he wondered absently how late it really was. 

He slid out of bed and stretched. He yawned as he dragged the curtains fully aside to peer out at the sun. 

Sometime around midday. He couldn’t even bother to chide himself over sleeping in so late. 

Aggravain glanced down at the courtyard below the window, and for once let himself take it all in. With his hands placed firmly on the sill, he peered out and spotted Lancelot talking with some other knight of the round he never let himself get close enough to learn the name of. He felt himself laugh, earnestly this time.

He turned with a snort and began searching around for something to change into, or at least throw on over his messed up, dirt covered clothes before pausing.

A glass of water sat on the table next to the bed. 

Aggravain begin to cry.


End file.
